


Find me lost in memories past

by cc5



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, fix-it & reunion, just two idiots finally meeting again s10-ish, somewhere between fluff and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cc5/pseuds/cc5
Summary: Her sister finally brought her back to him, after what feels like a lifetime apart- there's happiness and grief and eventually: love.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	Find me lost in memories past

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hai, friends, it's been a while. ❤️
> 
> This was more a drabble, then a ficlet that turned into a little more... not quite enough for a multichapter, though, but who knows?  
> I wondered how S10 Daryl would deal with meeting Beth again- he has changed so much, and that might just be what she needs. 
> 
> Set up: Alpha is dead, no one got put on pikes, Lydia is still at ASZ, Carol and Zeke are still married, Michonne is at Oceanside (or beyond). Siddiq is happy and healthy, as is Jesus. There is peace in their part of the world. Let me dream, goddamnit... 
> 
> It's been so long since I tried my hand at a reunion- this fandom has given us so many wonderful ones! Thank you to this fandom for inspiring more bethyl content after so many years still.

She first saw him from a distance, in deep conversation with a couple of people leaning over various papers, jotting down notes and drawing lines while the others interjected and contributed to the plan they were working on.

After all these months of anticipation, there he was. It felt almost mundane and anticlimactic, not that she had expected to see him directly at the gate to greet her. No one knew she was coming, and she knew almost no one here, which wasn’t surprising after close to a decade apart. She, too, had met and lost many people along the way, but the irony wasn’t lost on her that of her old group, he was quite literally, the last man standing.

Alexandria was buzzing with life, and many people came to welcome Maggie and her kindly. So many new faces, too many smiles that seemed genuine but it was hard to reciprocate, mainly because the mere size of this place was overwhelming. Without her sister she would feel vulnerable and foolish for walking into a community she had not scoped out, with unknown dynamics and variables. She was certainly safe here, but had no intention to let down her guard.

It felt strange just to stand here and watch. It was a pivotal moment, reuniting after all these years, after all these miles travelled and heartache and pain. 

He looked strong, stronger than before, well nourished. Hair still wild, red bandana tucked into his back pocket and of course wearing the vest, one wing missing and she didn’t know how that made her feel. So familiar, yet different: The way he stood there among his peers, confident and relaxed, and she wondered all at once how much he had changed. She had, a fact she was reminded of with every look into the mirror, but her memories of him were of a man frozen in time. The man who carried her into the funeral home and encouraged her to sing. Suddenly she feared he had hardened as much as she had. 

Maggie squeezed her hand reassuringly and let her have this moment of observation. There was no rush, she could set the pace. The sun burned on her cheeks and a mild breeze sent shivers down her spine. Maybe it was the nerves, because she could feel her heart flutter in her chest and this felt all at once like a bad idea. Doubts invaded her mind like poison- he might not care to see her again, or be disappointed in what he would see. All of her sister’s reassurances forgotten, she started to pull away.

___________

He smelled like smoke and sweat and her senses were overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions- old and new ones alike, some long buried right next to others fresh and foreign. He was holding her in a tight embrace- or was it her holding him? She did not know or care as her fingers dug into the leather of his vest. Feeling his warmth, his lungs expand with every breath, and hear his heart beat as rapidly as hers- it felt healing. It felt like a part of her falling back into place amongst all the shattered pieces that her life had become. His arms encircled her tight enough to make her feel grounded- one hand between her shoulder blades as the other held her by the neck to his chest. At this moment, nothing around them mattered, but she would not realize what this meant for a long time.

Later, she would be embarrassed by showing vulnerability, by being so forward with her need to reconnect with the man who had taught her to survive. 

But for now, she was glad for starting to feel a little bit again like the girl who burned down the shine shack and had hope to see her family once more. Finding her sister had already been a miracle to a woman who had long given up on her faith.

She lost herself for a moment in a tidal wave of safety, gratitude, and calmness. The dysphoria would return, and she was not ready to let go of him just yet. 

“God,  _ Beth. _ ”

Her name on his lips, the relieved utterance so quietly into her hair, just above a whisper, sent chills down her spine. An unexpected sob escaped her, causing her to tighten her grip as she fought for composure. No more tears, she’d promised herself a long time ago, promised it again when she sobbed into her sister’s shirt at their recent reunion.

___________

Maybe she could be happy here. Maybe she had to learn what happiness truly meant. 

First she had to grieve, because in her mind her family had always made it, all of them. A delusion, but in that fantasy they lived long, happy lives. Had to, so she could tip up her chin and keep on going, no matter what life threw at her. They’d all thrived, and so would she- but now she found out who had met an untimely end, how, and when. Accepting she’d never see any of them again smarted a lot, each in a different way. For a few days, she held vigil at the graveyard for each of them, and a sadness hung over them all, as they relived the losses along with her. 

In turn, Daryl and Maggie had to unlearn their grief in respect to Beth. A peculiar experience, but so necessary to move on, as life around them already did.

So many questions still begged to be answered, only adding fuel to the already fragile state of mind: they had to balance the past with the present to fully start living. 

___________

He didn’t yell when he found her outside the gates with a limp, smeared with blood and clothes torn. Didn’t storm off in anger after taking her to Siddiq to get looked over and patched up. Didn’t leave her side when she fell into a fitful sleep, tormented by nightmares. Didn’t look away from her scarred face as he wiped her brow after she threw up due to her concussion. 

It temporarily took the wind out of her sails, as she was always ready for conflict, always ready to strike first. She’d left the community to hunt alone, a habit none of her friends ever appreciated much but accepted begrudgingly, when she’d walked into an ambush. A few men down on their luck, travelling through and robbing who they came across until they met Beth’s blade. Killing was always ugly, but she did so skillfully. She didn’t feel bad for it, which he did not seem to judge. Besides the humiliation that came with being stuck in a bed, she felt shame at how easily it had been to surround her. Letting her guard down made her feel weak, and she resented herself for it. 

So she did what she could do best to protect her dignity: lash out. Yelled at him in childish anger to deflect, to get the pushback she needed to validate her own self-deprecating feelings. But he did not take the bait, stood his ground much like she had back then at the still, with even more patience- he stepped into her space and pulled her to his chest, undeterred by her half-hearted fight. Cradling her but not trapping her, and when she started to calm down she realized how much she needed the physical contact to feel steady again. Mild anger because he dared to reach out to her like that, but more gratefulness as her heart rate returned to normal. She was all right. She was alive. She could stop fighting for a little while. 

___________

With time, he opened up to her as well. As much as he was more at peace with himself, he still had demons. Working with Lydia brought back his own childhood memories, and Beth was the only one he would share them with. In the dead of night, after they spoke for hours, she would kiss every inch of his scarred body and worship it like he did hers. They took back the power from those who inflicted violence onto them, and replaced it with love. The past had shaped and made them who they were, undeniably pushed them to their limits in more ways than one. But they had never lost their humanity or capacity for empathy. Yet, it was difficult to find appreciation in the terrors of their past. 

Sometimes, she cried. It was no longer a weakness, not in front of him. Sometimes, he too shed tears, and the affection and care they shared through agony, or maybe despite, was a far greater intimacy than mere lust could give them. Being able to entirely open up and let go, without any limits and with their entire souls, that was a gift she felt not worthy of, but handled with the utmost care. 

She tried to start each new morning with gratitude instead of dread, even the difficult ones. It was easier waking up next to someone who made her feel so safe and cherished, but like with everything else it was a work in progress. It helped to have a little faith after all. 

___________

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it so far, hope you enjoyed it! 🌸
> 
> Huge thanks to my friends for encouraging my silly attempts at writing, you know who you are.


End file.
